I don't know her name.

The realization hit me, when I noticed that I hadn't seen the girl in...well, I had no idea how long. My sense of time had been totally screwed over because honestly, as a fish, I didn't care what time it was as long as I was fed. And since I had no idea how long my sentence here at Madam Shan's would be, I stopped caring about the passage of time.

I don't know her name.
The name of the girl. 
That was all I thought of her has.
The girl. That girl.
No name.

I have to admit. In the beginning I hadn't cared. I never learn the names of the victims in our crimes unless we have to impersonate one of them, or use their name to get through security. But that had been high end stuff. 
Even stuck here in the pet shop, I'd fully expected to be out of here before now. Far, far away from here. Why would I need to know her name?
But, with my crew finally switching to their new shapes, I found myself wanting to know.

What was her name?

I'd seen her wearing a name tag, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember what it said.
And now it bugged me. Like crazy.

She knew my name. I really should know hers.

#Henry